


dreams and dreamers

by lukegodbaby



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Other, Sex Dreams, ambiguously gendered reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 18:52:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18184433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukegodbaby/pseuds/lukegodbaby
Summary: after having a sex dream about patrick, you ask belch to remind you who you belong to





	dreams and dreamers

“If you were just good for me in the first place, we wouldn’t be here, would we?” Patrick asked, his hand smoothing over your ass.

“No, Patrick,” you said, squirming.

You were desperate for him to just get to it — to just touch you, give you something that would feel good.

His hand, still roaming over your ass, smoothed down until one of his fingers found your hole. You whined, pushing back into the touch.

He laughed, a soft and dangerous thing.

“Someone’s eager,” he said.

“Yeah, just — _come on_ , Patrick, stop teasing me,” you huffed.

“Oh, well. If that’s what you _want_ ,” he said, sliding a finger inside you, fast and hard.

You pushed back on his finger, fucking yourself on it.

“That’s it, be a good little slut for me,” he said.

He put a hand in your hair, and pulled, hard. Then, he leaned up and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, hard enough that you could bet it would draw blood.

You gasped, waking up.

You looked over at Belch, who was, thankfully, still asleep. Or he looked like he was. He could be a fitful sleeper, but at the very least, you think you didn’t wake him up.

You got out of bed, cheeks burning with shame, taking the sheet that Belch had kicked off and wrapping it around your body.

Then, you left the room. You left your boyfriend in bed, going to the living room so you could think.

It’d been a long time since you’d had a sex dream about anyone but Belch — a long, _long_ damn time.

You looked out the window, down the street to where the lonely streetlight lit up the corner of the neighborhood. Everything was quiet, but your head was a mess.

Patrick.

What was it about Patrick that your mind couldn’t just put away?

What was it about him that made him invade your mind even in the most private of moments?

“Baby,” came a voice behind you.

You jumped, but didn’t turn. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle, leaning down to put his chin on your bare shoulder. His breath tickled your skin, and you made a concentrated effort not to wiggle away.

“Can’t sleep?” he said, his voice thick and tired.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“You wanna tell me, baby?”

Something about his voice said that he knew more than he was letting on.

“Bad dream,” you said, wondering how much you had to give away before he’d admit to anything.

“Didn’t sound bad to me, sugar. You were moaning. A lot.”

You sighed, looking down.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, _damn it._

“Good to know,” you said, voice weak. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, mostly. But who wouldn’t wake up to their baby having a wet dream?”

Your cheeks flushed, but not in a good way. Not pleased, not surprised, just shameful.

“Yeah.”

He turned you around so he could look at you in the moonlight.

“You wanna tell me about it, baby?” he asked again.

“Not really,” you said. You were just being honest, but it sounded so harsh. You softened the blow. “I don’t think you wanna hear, babe.”

“There’s nothing I don’t wanna hear.”

“You might be wrong about that.”

He looked at you, so strong and so clear that you had to look away, taking a gulp of air.

He brought his hand up to meet the side of your face, just holding you. He made you look at him, and what you found there was nothing bad — it was just him. Just him, in all the ways he loved you dearly.

“It wasn’t you,” you admitted.

“I know. You said his name.”

You groaned. “Fuck.” Then, you took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“Why Patrick?”

“Because my brain hates me. I haven’t dreamt about him in forever. Not since before we got together.” You took a deep breath. “I swear. I didn’t want to, it just happened.”

He looked at you for a moment, searching your face. He was looking for the truth, and he found it.

“It’s okay, baby. I know you don’t like him. Besides, you can’t control what you dream about.”

“But I can still feel bad about it,” you said.

“Sure, but why waste the energy?”

You sighed, then took a step forward until your forehead was on his chest.

“Because I love you, and my brain doesn’t get that, sometimes.”

“I love you too, baby. Don’t worry about it, okay? Come back to bed.”

You sighed, but let him lead you by the hand back to his bedroom, where his bed waited, big and empty. You crawled onto your side, curling up to him as he put his arms around you, putting his nose in your hair and taking a deep breath.

Then, his hand slipped down to touch you. You sucked in a breath, surprised.

“You’re still turned on, baby,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you said. “A little bit.”

“Wanna do something about that?”

You rolled on top of him, rubbing yourself back and forward on his dick, your hands on either side of his head, your back bent forward. He put his hands on your hips, not guiding you, just along for the ride.

He smiled at you. “What do you want, baby?”

“I want — I want you to take control.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Please?”

He leaned up and kissed you. It started slow and sweet, but soon his tongue was in your mouth and he was biting your lip, his hands holding you close, one on the back of your neck, holding you in place.

You broke from the kiss, gasping, and he rolled until he was on top of you. He knelt over you, slowly pushing his boxers down until he was completely bare.

“How do you want me to fuck you, baby?”

“I — fuck.” You wanted to ask to be punished. Even though it wasn’t your fault, even though you couldn’t control your dreams. Even though — even though. “Remind me I’m yours?”

“You need reminding, sugar?”

He kissed you again, sliding his tongue into your mouth, tasting you.

“You need reminding that you belong with me, and no one else? That no one else can have you?”

You nodded, tension building in your gut.

“Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nice,” he said.

He guided the head of his cock over your hole, back and forth, back and forth, teasing you.

“You’re mine,” he said, slowly sliding inside you. “No one else can have you. Not Patrick, not anybody.”

“Just you,” you whispered.

“Just me.”

He pulled out until only the head was still inside you, then roughly pushed back in, holding your hips in place. You gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles in the back.

“Kiss me again,” you said.

He leaned down, kissing you with so much force that you could barely breathe after it. He licked at your lips, holding your chin in place with one big hand, still pumping in and out of you.

“You know I love you,” he said.

“I know.”

“You know that it doesn’t matter who you dream about, right? Just as long as you wake up with me.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you look like that?” he asked, slowing his pace until he was just barely moving inside you.

“I feel — I feel _dirty_. Like he was really fucking me, behind your back.”

“Oh, baby.” He kissed a line up your neck to your mouth. “Good thing that’s never gonna happen, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me you’re mine,” he said, picking up the pace just a little bit.

“I’m yours — I’m yours, Reggie.”

You pulled out that sweet nickname, something you only called him when it was just the two of you, because you wanted him to know it was the truth. You wanted him to know you were showing him your neck, being vulnerable.

He began fucking you harder, pounding into you. You gasped then pulled him down for another kiss — all hot slide and teeth.

When he came, he came inside you, his hand on you, working you toward your orgasm.

You came with a strangled gasp, his name on your lips.

He slumped down and rolled off of you, onto his side of the bed. He kissed your forehead, and held you in his arms.

“Next time you have a dream about someone else,” he said, “tell me. I’ll remind you who you belong to.”

“Okay.”

“I forgive you, if that’s what you need to hear.”

You smiled at the ceiling.

“I guess it was.”

“Go back to sleep, darlin’. I’ll be here.”

You curled closer to his chest and let yourself drift off.

When you dreamt, it was of nothing in particular. And you woke up relieved.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on tumblr at god--baby.tumblr.com


End file.
